


A Holiday To Remember

by Gerec



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, M/M, Romance, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 20:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13725663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: Charles has to take a forced holiday in Malaga when rumors surface of an assassination plot against the head of the CIA's Mutant Affairs Division. He expects a lot of sunshine, naps and delicious food.He doesnotexpect to end up in a whirlwind romance with the mysterious and charming En Sabah Nur.





	A Holiday To Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lachatblanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [lachatblanche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachatblanche/pseuds/lachatblanche) in the [xmenrarepairs18](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs18) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  When Charles met and had a whirlwind holiday romance with the gorgeous and charismatic En Sabah Nur, he imagined that he was perhaps a businessman (he had an eye for sharply tailored suits after all) or else some sort of travelling bohemian guitar player (he has a LOT of stamps in his passport, and he plays the guitar SO well).
> 
> He was therefore not at all happy to find out that the man whom he had fallen head over heels for was actually a contract killer wanted by the authorities and whose body count lay high in the double figures.
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Great big thanks to Nikorys for your help with the translations!

Charles met him the first time outside his favorite little coffee shop, where he liked to grab his lunch every Tuesday and Thursday - on days where he could take a little extra time and not worry about rushing back for departmental meetings. It was mid-November, and cold enough for a scarf and his favorite fingerless mitts, though the lack of snow on the ground meant that the sidewalks were still fairly easy to navigate in his chair.

It was the sound of his voice that caught Charles’ attention, smooth and almost hypnotic as he sang a folksy rendition of John Denver’s ‘Country Roads’. Strumming his guitar, the man was dressed in a long and luxurious tan wool coat, with curly dark hair and – yes, rather soulful eyes – looking much more like a model in a photoshoot than a busker working for spare change.

Charles found himself coming to a stop in front of the performer, who looked up at him then and smiled, a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his lips as he continued his song. It was almost mesmerizing, the way he caught Charles’ gaze and held it, as though he’d been waiting for Charles’ arrival all along.

He allowed himself a little internal chuckle at the thought, and clapped appreciatively when the song ended, pulling a twenty from his pocket and dropping it into the open guitar case.

“That was wonderful,” he said, and the man gave him a little bow. He could read from him a sense of gentle amusement for Charles’ enthusiasm, and a fine appreciation for his physical attributes. It was flattering, to be on the receiving end of such admiration, and refreshing for someone to see beyond the wheelchair right from the start. “You have a beautiful voice.”

He wondered idly if the man happened to be a mutant too, since Charles couldn’t readily read any additional thoughts, even with his attention focused entirely on the handsome stranger.

“You’re too kind. And generous,” the man quipped, grinning playfully at Charles as though they were the only two people in the world and not surrounded by dozens of New Yorkers rushing past on the busy sidewalk. “Do you have a request?”

Charles thought for a moment and asked, “Can you play another John Denver one? ‘Leaving On A Jet Plane’?”

“For you? Anything,” he said, the words stated more like fact than flirtation. It piqued Charles’ interest even more, though he soon found himself caught up again by the man’s sultry voice, serenading him with what had been his father’s favorite song.

He left another twenty when it ended, and nodded his thanks before he made his way into the coffee shop to grab his lunch. By the time he came out forty five minutes later, the spot where the man had stood was empty, as though he’d been nothing more than a figment of Charles’ imagination.

But the good mood that the music prompted remained with him for the rest of the afternoon, as Charles happily ignored questioning looks from Alex and Sean along with Hank’s gentle prodding.

It even lasted through his review of the latest mission report from his ex, which rather pleased him, and made Charles write the whole encounter off as a welcome bit of serendipity.

* * *

The second time he met the man, he got a name.

A flute of champagne magically appeared in front of him, proffered by the same handsome man he’d met three months ago on the street. It was exactly what Charles needed after his keynote speech, the little indulgence he’d been craving, now that the most important of his duties for the evening was over.

“Oh, hello, and thank you,” Charles said, and if his greeting was a touch friendly for two strangers, the man at least didn’t seem to mind. “Fancy bumping into you _here_ of all places. Are you working? Or…?”

He paused when he realized what he’d implied; that even though the man was dressed impeccably in a gorgeously tailored suit, he couldn’t possibly be one of the rich patrons attending the fundraiser. Charles would have blushed if he were a teen and not in his late thirties, appalled as he was for jumping to conclusions based solely on circumstances.

But the man only smiled as he gazed at Charles with obvious delight, propping one shoulder ever so casually against the wall. “I am in fact, though the champagne might have given you the wrong idea. I’m with the band tonight, and – unfortunately for me – _not_ one of the many attractive servers wandering around the ballroom floor.”

It made Charles laugh, and he did nothing to hide his amusement. “Oh? And how is that unfortunate? I quite enjoyed your singing that time, outside the coffee shop.”

The stranger’s grin widened, as he rested two fingers lightly on one of Charles’ armrests. “Unfortunate, because I must take my leave and get ready to go on stage, instead of having an excuse to hang around and talk to the charming guests.”

“Unfortunate indeed,” Charles said, taking a sip of his champagne and licking his lips. The man’s eyes tracked the movement – just enough to convey his interest, which was not nearly enough for Charles. “But alas, the show must go on.”

“Indeed it must,” the man agreed as he reached for Charles’ hand. Instead of shaking it, he merely held it for long seconds, thumb brushing back and forth across Charles’ knuckles. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Xavier—“

“Charles. Please.”

“—Charles,” the man repeated, silky smooth, and he might have swooned just a little at the way his name sounded coming from those perfectly gorgeous _lips_. “À bientôt.”

He made to leave then, but Charles squeezed his hand gently and asked, “Since you know my name…perhaps you’ll consider giving me yours? Before you go?”

“Ah. It’s En Sabah Nur, at your service,” the man replied, as he swept into an exaggerated bow that had Charles laughing again. “But my friends call me Ens.”

“Oh? And how should _I_ call you?”

He winked in reply to Charles’ question, and then - with the most intoxicating mix of confidence and grace - placed a light kiss on the inside of Charles’ wrist before sliding a business card into the palm of his hand. “Call me ‘ _later_ ’,” the man teased, and then he was gone.

Five minutes later, Tony found him still in the same spot, staring at a phone number and the initials ‘E.S.N.’ written out in gorgeous calligraphy.

“Hey, what are you doing hiding back here? Gotta go kiss some asses if we want the nice rich people to give us money.”

Charles laughed. “Only you would put it like that, Tony. I’m sure they’re all here because they believe our foundation is doing good work.”

“Sure, sure,” Tony said, waving his champagne flute around to indicate the room at large before taking a long sip. “But I still say it’s a waste of time organizing this thing every year. Just do the mind-whammy thing on ‘em like I keep telling you and BAM! We meet our fundraising goals without all this unnecessary  _work_.”

“Tony,” Charles scolded, though it was an old joke and he’d long gotten used to Stark’s particular sense of humor. “That’s not how I use my telepathy.”

“Oh yeah? How _do_ you use your telepathy these days, old man? Saw you talking to hot stuff in the suit earlier…did you use it to check out his goods?”

That, and Tony’s accompanying eyebrow wag made him chuckle. “You know I like _some_ things to be a surprise.”

Tony shook his head. “Yeah but that’s only good if it’s a _nice_ surprise. And I’ve had a few not so _impressive_ ones, if you know what I mean.”

Charles sighed. “I always know what you mean, darling, so let me stop you right there,” he said, which in turn made Tony laugh. “Now, let’s go and kiss those rich asses, shall we?”

He slipped the card inside his jacket pocket, and spent the rest of the night greeting guests and making small talk, only half hearing that sensuous voice crooning so beautifully over the sound system. And by the time he remembered to check again, a couple hours later, it was only to find the band still onstage playing some light jazzy tunes, and that his mystery man had once again disappeared without a trace.

* * *

Charles never got around to calling Ens’ number because – not two days after the fundraiser event – the shit hit the proverbial fan.

He’d insisted that he was fine; that as one of the strongest telepaths on the planet he was quite safe from most assassination plots, even ones that involved fellow mutants. His team and his sister were all relatively easy to convince, providing that he agreed to let one of them accompany him at all times. Of course he’d expected the vociferous objection from Erik (for ‘ _not taking this seriously enough, Charles_ ’) though he hadn’t counted on Moira agreeing with him too, about the exceptional level of risk posed by this _particular_ contract killer, known simply as ‘Apocalypse’.

From what intel the two had been able to gather, most notably from their friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. – before storming into Charles’ office on Monday morning – they’d determined that ‘Apocalypse’ was exceptionally powerful and unconcerned with collateral damage, and was once responsible for leveling an entire city block just to take out one well-hidden and well-guarded target. Of course Charles’ team had been aware of the mutant’s activities prior to this latest ‘assignment’, though they’d never had a name before, nor a known objective ahead of time.

And that was how Charles found himself taking a mandatory two week holiday, at a seaside resort in Malaga, enjoying the first vacation in the five years he’d been head of the CIA’s Mutant Affairs Division. Checking himself into the Gran Hotel Miramar (a bit extravagant, but Charles figured he deserved a treat), he’d gotten an accessible suite with a balcony overlooking the Mediterranean, spending the first couple of days doing nothing but reading, eating and swimming in the hotel’s heated pool. It was most relaxing, if perhaps a touch quiet for Charles’ taste, and not for the first time he wished there was someone to share the days and evenings with, to take in the gorgeous views and the warm Spanish hospitality.

His thoughts went first to Erik of course, even after all the time they’ve been apart, though Charles was quick to remind himself of all the reasons why it hadn’t worked out in the first place. He thought about Steve too, and that had been a shorter and much less volatile thing, though eventually Charles’ loyalty to the CIA set him at odds one too many times with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s – and therefore Steve’s – mandate.

Lastly and surprisingly, he thought most about his handsome stranger, who remained not much more to him than a beautiful mystery. And if Charles laid in bed at night and touched himself to that liquid voice and those rich caramel eyes – well no one knew the wiser, nor would they (especially Raven and Moira) deny him the bit of harmless indulgence.

On the third day Charles slept in and then enjoyed a late breakfast in bed, before setting out to explore the Picasso Museum, spending a leisurely few hours milling through the collection and the nearby book shop. He bought a few new books for himself and for Raven, and then spent some time people-watching at the restaurant across the street, polishing off a platter of the most delicious Iberian ham and Andalusian cheeses he’d ever eaten.

Charles made it back to the hotel by early evening, still undecided on his plans for dinner; whether he would eat in the hotel restaurant or venture out to a tapas bar he’d been recommended. He was thoroughly distracted and so didn’t hear it at first, but then the sound of the guitar and a now familiar voice managed to catch his undivided attention.

To say that he was surprised to see _Ens_ of all people – sitting on a stool and strumming away in the lobby bar – would have been a drastic understatement, and Charles was struck speechless as he watched the man sing. It seemed to Charles like some kind of Spanish love song, sensual and melodic as he thought all Spanish songs sounded, and was struck again by the man’s strange and intoxicating allure.

When the song ended, he joined the other guests in their polite applause, just as Ens looked up and met Charles’ eyes. He smiled broadly, and seemed pleased if unsurprised to see him there, and Charles knew immediately that he’d been followed – a development that didn’t alarm him nearly as much as it should, given the circumstances.

“Un placer verte de Nuevo,” Ens greeted, as he made his way over to Charles, guitar slung over his shoulder. His shirt was opened at the collar, with just a hint of chest hair peeking through, and Charles longed to run his fingers along the nape of Ens’ neck and touch all that gloriously bronzed skin. But his whereabouts were known only to his team and his most trusted friends, and he needed to get to the bottom of Ens’ presence here, to sniff out any potential leaks in his department’s security.

To be honest, he was more concerned about _that_ , than any real threat to his own safety.

“I would say that it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Charles began, watching Ens’ face carefully as he continued, “but I’m afraid that I can’t. I don’t believe in this many coincidences you see; certainly not when my whereabouts are supposed to be a secret.”

If he thought to catch Ens in a lie, or get a sense of discomfort or uncertainty from him, Charles couldn’t be more wrong; Ens only smiled at him knowingly, as though he’d expected Charles to be suspicious. “You’re right that it’s not a coincidence. When I didn’t hear from you after the other night, I got in touch with Mr. Stark and asked him to relay a message. He was kind enough to inform me you were out of the country on holiday, and that you might not be adverse to some company.”

Charles snorted. “And Tony just told you how to find me? Just like that? I mean, you’re a very charming man Mr. En Sabah Nur but I’m afraid I find that quite hard to believe.”

But Ens only laughed, entirely unfazed by his scepticism and beckoned for Charles to follow as he headed away from the lobby bar and out to the adjoining patio. There was more privacy here for their conversation so Charles wasn’t against the move, and it meant less witnesses to their confrontation should Ens’ explanation prove less than satisfactory.

“You’ll be very pleased to know that Mr. Stark is very protective of your privacy and just as concerned for your safety. He was very reluctant to divulge your location or share any news until I’d been properly vetted. Your telepath friend, a Ms. Frost, yes? I assure you, that she spent quite a lot of time rifling through my head to determine my motives for contacting you.”

Charles couldn’t help it; he laughed then, at what poor Ens must have had to suffer through – both Tony’s excessive paranoia and Emma’s invasive mental prodding – and felt a measure of relief that his arrival wasn’t tied to any business with the CIA and the so called ‘Apocalypse’. He trusted his two best friends unconditionally, and knew that neither Tony nor Emma would have allowed Ens anywhere near if they weren’t confident that he meant Charles no harm. Still, he wasn’t quite ready to let the man off the hook completely…at least not without a little teasing.

“And what exactly are your motives, hmm? For searching me out and coming all this way? Surely, you didn’t need to leave the country to find a willing audience for your…music.”

It was a little cheesy, the flirting, but there was something about Ens that drew him in; made him keen to extend the length of their interaction each time they met. And also it had been a while since he’d found anyone quite so attractive – certainly no one who could hold Charles’ interest beyond one or two dates.

“Ah but I play much better in the company of one I mean to impress,” Ens countered, leaning down into Charles’ space, bracing both hands on his armrests. “Come inside my head, Charles, and see my intentions for yourself.”

 The invitation was clear, as was the fact that Ens knew he was a telepath and did not seem to fear his power. It was thrilling to meet someone who embraced him – _all_ of him – so easily and without fear, and so rare that it took Charles’ breath away just a little.

He smiled and placed his fingers against Ens’ temple, and dove in.

Most minds were mazelike and chaotic, Charles had found over the years, inherent in the way humans were constantly processing vast volumes of information at an almost instantaneous rate. And though he’d guessed that Ens might be a mutant he didn’t actually know for sure - not until he touched that remarkable mind and found an oasis of calm focus, with thoughts and wants and memories all openly laid bare.

It seemed that Ens was utterly _fascinated_ by Charles, and wanted nothing more than to bask in his presence.

And Charles realized that the feeling was entirely mutual.

He lost himself for an eternity or an instant, as Ens welcomed him with a hunger that was both flattering and surprising. In that infinite mind he saw endless images of men and women, all of them mutants, and all of them beautiful in Ens’ eyes. But it was always Charles that the images came back to, a kaleidoscope of a thousand faces morphing into one…

They were kissing before Charles realized it was happening, though he’d been the one to initiate, dragging Ens forward almost onto his lap. It felt like flying, or perhaps skydiving without a parachute; dangerous and exhilarating and unlike anything he’d ever experienced before in his entire life.

When they broke apart they were both panting, as though they’d run a marathon in what could only have been mere minutes. Charles grinned against his lips as Ens returned the smile, the two laughing a little under their breath before Ens pulled away with a reluctant sigh.

“Would you like to join me for dinner?” Charles asked, because it was not just sex that he craved from this man who had so captured his attention. He wanted to _know_ him, to speak with him, and to study every facet of the man’s mind in addition to his body.

“I would love to,” Ens said with mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I know a little tapas place that makes the best _Chipirones_. What do you say? Do you trust me?”

Ens did not even try to hide the double meaning to his words, and Charles found that he quite liked that bit of arrogant charm. He smiled, and offered his hand.

“Yes.”

* * *

That first night spent with Ens was more fun than Charles had experienced in ages, filled with laughter, music and a decadent feast. The little tapas bar Ens suggested turned out to be located not in Malaga but in _Barcelona_ , almost a thousand kilometres away and clear across the country. It was a matter of moments for them to make the trip though, as Ens opened a purple portal with the wave of his hand, and Charles found himself transported in an instant to the restaurant’s front door.

And Ens continued to impress Charles with his power in the following days, whisking him from place to place with ease, completely carefree in the use of his mutation around others. It was freeing to be able to move so quickly and easily, and allowed Charles to access places he would not have been able to visit in his wheelchair. It made him appreciate Ens all the more, as they travelled from place to place or city to city, the physical world opening up to Charles in a way that had not been possible since the accident years ago.

They watched the sunset over Rio de Janeiro, from the base of the city’s iconic statue.

They swam in the blue waters off the coast of Capri, and tasted hundred year old wine in Bordeaux. They strolled through the bustling Souk Semmarine in Marrakesh, and watched the sunrise over the great pyramids in Giza. Their days were a whirlwind of new tastes and sounds and experiences, a total immersion of the senses that Charles devoured with gusto.

The nights they spent always back in Malaga, in Charles’ suite and in his bed. 

To say that the sex was good would be a gross understatement; Ens was both patient and highly skilled, and was dedicated to the art of giving and receiving pleasure. He shared with Charles too another of his mutations, unseen and unfathomable; hundreds of lifetimes that En Sabah Nur had apparently lived on this earth already, an immortal god amongst mere mortals.

“ _Eres una creatura exquisite_ ,” he whispered, his hand gentle as he cradled the nape of Charles’ neck. The words were intoxicating and sincere and oh how Charles wanted to believe in them – in _him_ – this beautiful, impossible being who had managed in just a few short days to turn his orderly life upside down.

 _Believe me, Charles,_ Ens replied. Joined as they were, in body and in mind he could see the shapes and taste the colors of Charles’ every thought and feeling. _All this time, and all the places I’ve been…I’ve never met anyone quite like you. So beautiful. So powerful. But you are not yet free._

He knew exactly what Ens meant with his words; knew even as their bodies moved together that he had not given every part of himself into the act. As a telepath Charles maintained tight rein over his mutation at all times and in all situations, unwilling to risk what damage he might do if he lost control of his formidable power. It was a risk he’d never been willing to take, not even with Erik who’d never been afraid…

 _Let go, Charles_ , Ens coaxed, pulling him away from his fears unspoken. _You’re safe with me. You cannot hurt me. You’re free to just…be. All of you. Every part of you. Here, with me._

He could feel it too, Ens own mind reaching out, winding itself around Charles even as it echoed into infinity. There was power there, ancient and unknowable, and in that moment Charles knew that he’d found his equal.

 _Yes,_ Ens agreed, and then they were falling, alone and together, as Charles flung himself wide and unleashed his telepathy from its tether, letting it crash over them both with the force of a tidal wave…

It went on and on for an eternity.

He never wanted it to end.

But end it did, eventually, as all good things do when it was time for Charles to return home to New York. He could not hide away with Ens forever, as attractive a proposition it might be; he had responsibilities and loved ones who needed him, now that the immediate threat – according to Moira – seemed to be over.

There was no long goodbye, only sweet kisses shared on Charles’ balcony, before Ens opened a portal to some unknown location and slipped away. It was easier and harder both for Charles, to have had two glorious weeks with this incredible man, full of passion and romance and arguably the best sex of his life…

…and know that it was never meant to last, even if some part of Charles hoped to see Ens again someday.

* * *

“How was your trip?”

Charles was back in the office two days later, and already neck deep in the paperwork that had accumulated while he was away. And it turned out that the team had made no progress in tracking down Charles’ would-be assassin, though by all indications and all channels, the hit on Charles had been abruptly and mysteriously called off.

“Fine. It was fine, Erik. Lots of great food and sunshine. Was there anything else?”

He hadn’t told anyone, not even Raven, about Ens when they’d asked about his holiday, not that he thought it was any of their business to know his private affairs. But Charles felt strangely possessive about the time they’d spent together, as though it would take away some of the magic if he spoke about it out loud.

Not that he would be telling _Erik_ of all people about his whirlwind affair, even if he was in the mood to share.

Erik frowned at Charles’ dismissal but it apparently wasn’t enough to send him back to his own office. “I know the immediate threat seems to be over, Charles, but I don’t like it, how we still don’t know who or where this ‘Apocalypse’ is or if he’ll go ahead with the orders anyway. Promise me you’ll be careful? And you’ll tell me if you see or hear anything suspicious?”

He’d been in the process of opening mail when Erik had walked in, reading his name spelled out in gorgeous calligraphy on the envelope in his hand. Charles recognized the penmanship right away, and pulled out the card eagerly, skimming the contents as Erik spoke. He set the card down absently on the desk and looked up, schooling his expression and willing his heart to stop racing as he answered, “Yes, I’ll be careful.”

“And you’ll tell me if you see or hear anything?” Erik repeated.

“Yes,” Charles agreed, and scrubbed his face tiredly with his hand. “Now please, I have a lot of work to do to catch up. Can we talk later?”

He waited until Erik left and shut the door behind him before he picked up the card and turned it over. He read it again, over and over, even though his eidetic memory meant he’d never forget the words, nor a single moment of the time he’d spent with the card’s sender. It read:

_Dear Charles,_

_I promised that you were safe with me and I meant it; you need not worry about the attempt on your life, since I did not complete the assignment, nor did I allow anyone else to do so. In fact, the ones who did the hiring have also been dealt with, so you can rest assured that this matter is closed. You truly are an exquisite creature, Charles Xavier, and the world is a much better place for having you in it._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Ens_


End file.
